The High Stakes Series
by Lady Lioness
Summary: Set in place of "Departure," Maria makes a startling observation that sets a chain of discoveries into motion.
1. Russian Roulette

Author's Notes: When I saw "Baby, It's You," a seed was planted. Then I wrote  
"Reluctant Wings" and it bloomed. When I re-read the fic, I realized that I  
had unwittingly wrote exactly what bothered me about the whole episode. So   
I stewed on this and then it all culminated into this little piece. Lemme know  
what you think. The only real spoiler is the bigass one in "Baby, It's You."  
Everything else is speculation.   
  
  
Russian Roulette  
  
  
It had been Maria who realized the truth first, as they all stood together,  
discussing recent events at the quarry where they usually met. Once she pointed it out  
to Max, he felt like such an idiot. They talked to Larek. The aliens knew that   
they were supposed to remain on this planet, to guard the Granolith. Four Square,  
their power came from their bonds with each other. Why would they be encouraged  
to connect with each other if not to produce offspring? The King and Queen needed  
an heir after all. Tess and Max had mated, produced a son. And he was dying.   
Because of the Earth's atmosphere.   
  
Maria asked Max how likely it was for only the alien portion of their DNA to be  
passed down. Wouldn't two hybrids make another hybrid? After all, she said,  
weren't hybrids usually sterile?   
  
He looked at Liz then, seeing the dawning recognition in her eyes. Flashing  
back to New York, he remembered finding Tess alone on her knees, telling him that  
she had destroyed Lonnie and Rath. Now he found himself wondering if she had, if  
he had brought back Tess at all. Max turned to Kyle then, who had sank back against  
the hood of his mustang. He had his head buried in his hands, trying to reconcile  
himself simply to the idea of Tess being pregnant. Max called his name three times  
before he looked up.   
  
How sure was he that Tess was Tess? What the fuck was Max talking about? Max explained  
about the possible switch and Kyle stared at him like he was crazy. Then a billion   
memories crashed into his head and started colliding with each other.   
  
Before, she kept trying to turn his walls pink and she kept swiping his football jersey  
to prance around in. Before, she would give him this sultry look that had him panting.  
Before, she looked at him the way she looked at Max.   
  
Kyle met Max's eyes again, his voice hoarse as he admitted that it was possible,  
possible that Tess was someone else. Michael protested the loudest, citing all the  
incidents where Tess had covered their backs. Maria was the observant one again, pointing  
out to Michael how all the Skin attacks had stopped since Max and Tess went to New York.  
Would a homicidal race, dependent on a single thing for survival, quit before obtaining  
said item for survival?   
  
Something in her eyes reminded Michael of the way Hank used to act, whenever he was  
short of money and booze. Nothing would stand in his way, nothing would prevent him  
from becoming drunk again. Michael thought about all this and shook his head. No,  
the Skins wouldn't just give up. That meant they had something up their sleeves,  
something already in motion.  
  
Isabel was the next to make an earthshattering realization. She cried Alex's  
name and her knees buckled. Liz was quick to wrap an arm around her waist, supporting  
her. Liz met Max's eyes as she reminded him that with the book translated, they   
could find a way home and it stood to reason they'd take the Granolith home.  
The Skins would have a vested stake in making sure the book was not translated.   
Isabel buried her face in Liz's shoulder and Liz could feel the hot tears soaking  
her shirt. Surprisingly, it was Kyle who gently pried Isabel off Liz and let her  
soak his shirt.   
  
It was like losing him all over again and this time it was personal. One of their  
own had iced him. One of their own who was not one of their own. Two losses in the  
family now. What would they do now?  
  
Maria came to the rescue again, ordering Michael to make six copies of the   
translated book. She wanted the crystal; she'd hide it among the others in her room.  
Signaling Liz with her eyes, she told her to take Max back to the Evans house and   
to tell him *everything*. Both Kyle and Max looked sharply at Liz who was staring  
at her shoes. She nodded and Maria continued. Kyle was to wait with Isabel and  
then drive them both to the Evans house where they were to wait. Looking at Michael,  
she told him she'd take him back to his apartment to pick up the things before they  
also went over to the Evans.   
  
Five pairs of eyes fixed on the petite blonde girl, who was standing there with  
a firm look on her face. She stared back and there was a moment before there was  
silent unanimous agreement.   
  
Isabel walked off, tears still wet on her face, and Kyle followed, his hands  
jammed in his pockets. Max and Liz headed for the Jeep, and this time when Max reached  
for her hand, she didn't pull away. Maria was left standing there, Michael at her  
back. Finally, she too turned around and strode away, Michael by her side.   
  
Left behind, swirling in the red dust, was the unasked question. What were they going  
to do about Tess? The dust settled to rest against the ground, but the question  
followed them all home. 


	2. Three Card Monte

Author's Notes: This is all Silverbee's fault. I have a final in less than  
ten hours and I really planned on studying before bed. However, Silverbee  
left me lovely feedback and then suckerpunched me with a request for   
the resurrection of Alex. I couldn't bloody well resist that, now could  
I? Dammit. I'm gonna be up all night now studying. You see what  
feedback does to me? I'm like a junkie. *sigh* Anyways, this is  
the sequel to "Russian Roulette." It could stand on its own,  
but I wrote it with the intention of creating a new mini-series.   
Mostly an AU fic, but general warning for "Cry Your Name," "Meet the Dupes,"  
and "Baby, It's You."   
  
  
Three Card Monte  
  
She wasn't sure how long she had been in here. They kept in dark,  
and the days slid into night so easily. Rath joked once about modifying   
the room into a dungeon, but Lonnie had shot him a look and he subsided,  
although she still saw the gleeful glint in his eyes.   
  
They didn't come by much anymore. Before, they liked to stop in  
regularly to taunt her with updates, about how easily the others had  
accepted the Imposter in her place. It used to hurt, but now she could  
barely remember their faces. As she weakened, Nicholas was able to get through  
her defenses easier and easier. Soon, he would be able to pentrate the tight  
walls she kept around the location of the Granolith. If they taken her  
a month before they traveled to New York, she might not have fought so hard,  
but she remembered sitting with a devasted Max on a park bench, offering the   
scant comfort she could. It was one of the few memories she knew was real.   
  
The food they rationed out to her was bland and mushy. No need to waste  
seasonings on a prisoner. She thought she tried to escape once, had tried  
to mindwarp the guard into believing she was still in her cell. It had worked,  
she thought, and she slipped out past him, but she had gotten lost in the maze  
of corriders and eventually the warp became too much for her to contain. She  
fainted. When she woke up, she was shackled to a wall, with Nicholas sitting on  
the cot. It had almost been amusing watching a ten year old boy berate her. All  
the humor had disappeared when he gave her to Lonnie and Rath as a plaything.  
After that, she realized why her double had taken the chance to flee them in   
Roswell.  
  
A flash of movement caught the corner of her eye and she turned her head,  
watching as her cellmate roused to consciousness. Nicholas, and through him Kivar,  
was growing frustrated with the boy. Though he was only human, someone had   
constructed a strong mental shield in his mind. Nicholas couldn't pentrate it.   
Each time he tried and failed, the boy suffered.   
  
She could remember when he had been thrown in here, like a sack of garbage.   
He'd been bleeding from a head wound, the blood streaming down to obscure most of  
his facial features. She hadn't recognized him until those blue eyes opened and a   
hoarse voice whispered her name. The shock of it sent her scuttling back to a shadowed  
corner. She hadn't heard her name in such a long time. Here they referred to her  
as "Max's bitch," "The Roswell Slut," or a mocking "Your Majesty." Groggily, he  
had pushed up to his hands and knees, raising his head to look at her through the  
crimison stains.   
  
It seemed like some cruel trick at first, and she had retreated again. Something  
broke in his eyes and he let himself slump back to the ground. Some unknown  
part of her that survived Lonnie's disciplines had her stepping forward. She became  
convinced when his breathing slowed nearly to a stop and with his last bit of energy,  
he whispered Isabel's name. Leaping forward, she used the little bit of power she always  
kept in reserve to mend the worse of the damage. She always rationed her water throughout  
the day, keeping some for the next day in case they decided not to feed her. She used  
it now, trickling it through his cracked lips. He started to cough, and she leaned forward,  
kissing him, so not to waste any of the precious liquid.   
  
His recovery was slow and it didn't help that Nicholas began the mind invasions   
almost immediately. The Skin brought pictures with him, images of grief and sorrow.  
She leapt on them as soon as the door swung shut behind Nicholas. There was one of   
Isabel, her icy mask cracked, the strains of grief clear on her face. Maria was leaning  
heavily against Michael, as if she depended on him to keep her standing. Max was leaning  
against a locker, his hands shoved in his pockets, his head bowed. There was also one of  
the Imposter, standing there looking up at the Sheriff, its fingers linked with Kyle's.   
She set that one aside for herself and then changed the rest to match some of the  
less painful memories she'd seen in Max's head. She offered them to him then and his   
long fingers sorted through them before he looked at her, an expression of sheer  
gratitude on his face.   
  
The altered pictures couldn't be found, obviously, so taking one last look at  
Kyle's mournful face, she blew the picture up, creating a small fire. The guard had  
rushed in, backhanding her to the wall. The Skin used the rest of their daily water rations  
to put out the fire and they went thirsty for the night. She tried to apologize to him,  
but he brushed it aside, tucking the pictures under the cot's mattress. Wrapping an  
arm around her shoulders, he told her stories, little ancedotes about all she had missed,  
being careful to edit out the Imposter.  
  
They always slept together at night, squished together on the small cot. He had tried  
to sleep on the cold floor once he'd recovered, but she wouldn't let him, always moving  
down with him whenever he tried to slip out of bed at night. That night she felt him  
slid a photograph from under the mattress, felt him tuck it under his shirt. In   
the morning, when they awakened before the guard brought a tray of food in, she felt him  
turn his face to the pillow, trying to hide his tears from her. The routine continued  
on for two more nights. On the third morning, this time he turned to her, grief in his  
face and she wrapped her arms around him, letting him weep. He never took the picture  
out before bed again.   
  
Life in their little world settled into a routine, which was abruptly shattered  
when Isabel walked brazenly through the door. She looked nervously at her cellmate, but,  
aside from a barely noticable flinch in his eyes, he didn't react to the newcomer.   
The Isabel looked disappointed for a moment and then shrugged, turning into Lonnie.   
The Dupe had come, she explained, to bid them adios. Apparently, the Imposter had almost  
completed its mission. It was impregnated with Max's son. Since a Skin offspring couldn't  
survive in Earth's atmosphere and since Max didn't know he'd mated with a Skin, he   
believed the only way to save their child was to go home. Lonnie took great pleasure  
in telling them that the bad guys were winning. She, knowing Lonnie well by now, allowed  
a small whimper to escape her lips and a smirk of mirth crossed the Dupe's lips.  
Satisfied she had caused them anguish, Lonnie left them alone.  
  
Silence fell in their cell and then he strode across the room, hugging her tightly,  
pressing her face into his shoulder. Burying his face in her hair, he angled his lips  
so that he could whisper into her ears. He told her then how he had managed to somehow  
connect with the real Isabel and that they shared several dreams. He hadn't told his lost  
love the truth because he was afraid she would try to rescue them. Now, however, it  
was imperative that they got a warning out. She managed a tiny nod. She couldn't dreamwalk,  
didn't know how he could, but she would use her own energy to help him. He would warn  
Isabel and then once Nicholas found out what he had done, she would die. The Skin  
wouldn't believe that any human would be able to dreamwalk. She hugged him tighter and  
she suddenly realized that if the Skins got her, his spirit might finally break then.   
She couldn't bear that.   
  
Thinking quickly, she led him over to the cot, where they sat down. He quickly  
captured her hands and she paused a moment to enjoy the brush of his fingers against  
her palms. Then she outlined the plans for their escape, knowing that she would be  
left behind one way or another. Maybe he knew, though, because that night, he climbed  
onto the cot first and pulled her against his chest, settling her head against his  
shoulder. She didn't comment on the change in position, just enjoyed the comfort of  
being held by him, because she knew, and maybe he did too, that tomorrow, he'd have to  
let her go.   



	3. Bustin' Blackjack

Author's Notes: I have not slept in twenty-four hours. I totally blame Silverbee  
for this, and I'd like to now throw in Steph as well. Silverbee gave me  
an idea and Steph came up with a better explanation for the title of "Three Card  
Monte" than I had in mind. So even though I'm yawning after every word and  
despite the fact that my dad is picking me up tomorrow morning to take me   
home, I'm gamely trying to finish this fic. You will probably need to read  
"Russian Roulette" and "Three Card Monte" for this to make any sense.   
  
"Bustin' Blackjack"  
  
  
She dreamed of him often, since the accident that had stole him from  
her, but none of the dreams had been as vivid as those first three nights  
she cried herself to sleep. Isabel knew this dream was like those special  
dreams. He looked different, gaunt, like he lost weight. When she reached  
out to touch him, he flinched away and shards of hurt slid into her soul.   
He smiled then, reassuringly, and caressed her face with his fingers.   
  
His arms opened for her and she slid against his chest, reveling in  
the sound of his heartbeat pounding in her ears. He held her there for  
long moments before he gently pushed her back. He spoke to her then,   
warning her of the Skins' plot and the Imposter in their midst. Isabel  
looked at him, confused. They already knew all this. Why was he wasting   
their time together with repetitive drivel?   
  
Suddenly, there was a flash of movement behind him and she pushed  
him aside, instinctively guarding him from the threat. He chuckled lightly  
and brushed past her, speaking softly to the figure cloaked in the shadows.  
She felt unreasonably jealous of that mysterious figure, since they rated  
the sweetness in his tone. He and the figure seemed to argue a bit and the   
dream wavered for a moment. He turned back to Isabel, a frantic look on his face.   
His hands cupped her cheeks gently and she wrapped her own fingers around   
his palms. He searched her face, his eyes piercing as if trying to sear   
her features onto his memory. He spoke again, hurried, emotional fragments.   
Isabel was confused. None of her previous dreams had this much urgency.   
Operating on instinct, she firmly grasped his face and kissed him deeply.   
His mouth was wet and hot, his tongue swirling around hers. Her hands   
slid down from his face to his chest and she could feel his heartbeat   
against her palm. Then there was a frantic motion from the shadowed   
figure and he stepped back, hands still reaching for her, as the dream   
faded, and then she knew.   
  
Isabel was off the bed nearly before she woke up. Slipping into Max's  
room, she gave her brother a heart attack as she shook him awake, telling him  
in frantic hushed whispers what she'd learned. He started to climb out of  
bed, but she pressed him back, telling him he had to cover for her. She'd   
take Michael. She dashed back to her room, pulling on street clothes.   
Taking the time only to pull her hair back into a loose ponytail, she was   
grateful for the training she'd been putting in as she streaked down the   
interlocking streets, heading for Michael's.   
  
The hands of fate seemed to be guiding them then, as Amy DeLuca had  
gone out of town, leaving her daughter free to spend the night with her boyfriend.  
Maria had handled Michael, cutting off his questions and bundling him into  
the backseat as Isabel took shotgun. She didn't know where he was exactly, but  
now, with the taste of him still in her mouth, she could feel the slight  
tug where his soul called hers. She had the horrible sense of impending change  
and she could only pray that she would get there in time to save him.   
  
Michael sat in the backseat, not moving from the spot where his  
girlfriend had tucked him. Maria had been acting odd lately, her grief over  
the loss of Alex transforming into a rock solid will. He hadn't thought  
it was possible for him to worry about her even more, but it was like  
a living thing now, pulsing in his chest with every breath. Isabel was  
like a wraith half the time now, fading into the dark, abandoning the light  
now that Alex was gone. He saw what was happening and it frightened him because  
he knew that he would be the same way, maybe even worse, if anything ever  
happened to Maria.   
  
Maria drove like a prep with her learner's permit- unsure of what she  
was doing, but not giving a damn if she wrecked the car. Michael doublechecked  
his seatbelt unconsciously. He wouldn't do anyone any good if he was face first  
on the pavement, a halo of shattered glass around his head. Isabel had Maria  
cutting through the desert. Faintly against the horizon, backlit against the   
rosiness of the rising sun, was a small settlement of buildings.   
  
The blonde alien had just pointed out their destination triumphantly  
when a sudden explosion rocked through the air, causing Isabel to cry out. As  
Maria drew closer, they could hear muffled shouts in the air, the alarming   
hiss of a well-fed fire, tinier explosions that rocked the ground  
beneath them, as they drew closer to the battleground. Maria drove as   
close as she dared to get and then pulled over.   
  
Exchanging a brief look with Maria, Isabel unclipped her seatbelt and   
climbed out of the car. Maria shot Michael a pointed look and he found himself  
sliding off the suede seat, wondering what the *hell* had gotten into her. Before  
he could warn Maria to be careful, Isabel took off, weaving her way across the  
shifting sands. Torn between duty and love, he stood struggling until Maria thwapped  
him on the arm and told him to get going. Flashing her a brief smirk, he trotted  
after Isabel.   
  
His sister took a circular route, avoiding most of the disturbances. When he  
finally caught up with her, she was jittering on her heels, waiting impatiently for  
him to blow open a door. Figuring one more explosion wouldn't hurt, he did so and then  
cursed when she darted past him into the smokey hallway. Michael kept his eyes  
locked on her liquid honey hair, the only part of her that he could see in the dim  
light. Michael was hopelessly disoriented when Isabel finally skidded to a stop.  
  
It was straight out of her dreams. He was standing there before her and she  
could barely breath. Isabel reached out to him and he snarled at her. Startled,  
her eyes widened and she backed away. His eyes darted over her shoulder and when they  
landed on Michael, he began to retreat, clutching the slight figure in his arms  
possessively.   
  
Perhaps dating Maria did him some good, because it was Michael  
who figured out the problem. He whispered into Isabel's ear, causing her to nod.   
She started telling the wary boy before them about the dreams they shared, about  
the promises they had made to each other. Finally, the hardness in his eyes   
began to soften and he stepped forward, jerking his head to indicate that they  
should get going.   
  
They didn't make it to the exit undetected as he was limping from a bloody  
gash on his hip and he refused to relinquish the bundle he held. Michael was   
forced to eliminate six Skin soldiers before they managed to retrace their steps.  
The ragtag bunch burst into the crisp morning air, the rays of the sun just lightly  
kissing the Earth. Maria had the doors to the Jetta open the minute she saw their  
approach and gunned the engine. They more fell into the car than climbed in and the  
moment all the doors were shut, she peeled away, leaving clouds of red dust in   
her wake.   
  
Twisting around in her seat, Isabel turned her head to make sure that this  
wasn't another dream, that he was really there. His hair was longer than she remembered,  
falling shaggily over his eyes. His eyes were closed now, his head resting against  
the seat. Maria quietly commented that it was probably the first real chance he had  
to sleep in a month, heading off Isabel's panic attack. It was Michael, peering   
carefully at the bloodcaked face of the girl Alex held, who figured out her  
identity. The Jetta swerved slightly when Michael made the prouncement. Their  
family was whole again. Alex and Tess were going home. 


	4. Slots

Slots Author's Notes: My psychic instincts kicked in again and I am once again a freakin' Oracle. I read the spoilers for the season finale the other day and it turns out that I can no longer just classify this series as AU. It appears that this might also be a spoilerfic. I won't tell you what spoilers specifically, but I will say that I got them from XG's Spoiler site. This is the fourth story in my "High Risk" series. The name for the series came from... Many thanks and feedback keeps me writing.   


"Slots" 

  


After Isabel fled his room in pursuit of a dream, Max laid on his bed and stared up at the ceiling, naming the shadows. It was an old childhood game of his, similar to the one where you spotted the shape of a cloud. The tinge of fear had always wound its way through Max's life and sometimes he'd would wake up in the night, shaking after a nightmare of hidden enemies. Those nightmares only got worse after Pierce. That's why he started the game again. A familiar shadow didn't seem quite as threatening, more protective than menacing. 

When he named them all, first and last names, he turned his thoughts to Liz. He'd held her hand. There was a time when he felt comfortable holding more than that, but for now, simple handholding was good. It was a step back to normality. Things had been so strange lately, moving rapidly from one direction to another in mere seconds. One day he was grieving over Liz, the next he was impregnanting Tess. A Tess. Someone. Something? 

He knew now, why he saw what he saw that night. The depth of Liz's devotion to him staggered him, knocked him back on his heels like a daisy buffeted by the summer winds. That she would put herself through that, all the pain and suffering, for him, for Michael and Isabel, it was unbelievable. Max had thought that he managed to put Liz in his past, to accept his destiny, but this new information broke the thin seal holding the emotion back. He loved her. He'd always loved her from the first moment he saw her. But he'd wasted his first time, had slept with...with the...with It. 

The sky outside his window lightened from a cerulan blue to powder blue. Remembering that he promised to cover for Izzy and not wanting to face questions from his mother, Max pulled on his clothes and headed into the kitchen to scribble a quick note. He figured he'd drive around in the Jeep for a while, until the Crashdown opened and then he'd get a chance to talk to Liz about what they should do with the It. Suddenly, as he was creeping out of the house, his cell phone started to ring in his hand. 

Cursing softly, he slipped outside, shutting the door behind him, as he answered it. Isabel spoke in hushed, emotional tones. She was heading back to Roswell with Maria and Michael. Her dream hadn't been a dream at all. She and Michael had gotten them out. Alex and Tess were free. His legs wobbled and Max sank down the grass, needing something solid beneath him. His breath came in gasps as he realized that he had gotten an It pregnant and a friend that he had grieved for was suddenly alive again. Isabel called his names several times before Max was able to answer. After a few moments of conversation, Max agreed to meet the Jetta at the Quarry.

Dismissing the possibilty of calling the Valentis, as he didn't want anything to tip off It, Max put the Jeep in drive with shaky hands and sped off down the street towards Liz. He scaled the ladder with ease, having done it so many times before. Liz was still curled up in bed, her dark hair covering the ivory silk of her face like a veil. He pressed his palm against the cool glass, spreading his fingers. He was reluctant to wake her, but he knew she would want to know, would want to know that she had been right all along. That the aliens were responsible for all the heartache she and Maria went through. He shook it off, the self-pity, telling himself not to be an ass. Liz had sacrificed so much for him; the very least he could do was act like a man.

A bit of power had Liz's lock clicking open and he twisted through the window. Max knelt by the side of her bed and his breath caught in his throat at the look of peace on her face. He watched her for a moment, noted how she curled her fingers under her cheek, heard how every third breath was more of a sigh. The scene etched itself onto his memory before he finally reached out a gentle hand, shaking her awake. Her eyelashes fluttered open and he found himself trapped by the melted chocolate of her eyes. Luckily for them, she wasn't quite that poetic in the morning and Liz demanded to know what he was doing there.

Max didn't tell her then, not wanting to risk her parents waking up. Instead he told her there was a meeting at the Quarry, and like a good soldier, she no longer questioned, just got up to get ready. He grabbed the box of Kleenex from her dresser on their way out, ignoring the curious expression on her face. When they were three minutes past the borders of Roswell, he couldn't stand it anymore and told her then about Isabel's dream. She didn't interrupt him, letting him tell the entire tale. When he was finally finished, she grabbed the Kleenex from the backseat and proceeded to burst into wrenching, noisy sobs, the kind of sobs that only came when an emotional dam had been torn down. He wanted to be able to pull over, but he couldn't risk making the others wait. So instead he poured on the speed, trusting that it was too early for any cops to be awake.

Liz could tell Max was worried about her by the darting looks he kept shooting her. How could she explain to him that she was crying because, for one brief instance of time, the fear was gone? There were no more gaping holes to be filled, to be ignored. Their family was whole again, the circle once more complete. Alex was alive and Tess wasn't pregnant. Isabel's heart was no longer broken and Max knew the truth now. Liz finally realized the point of all the heartache she had experienced over the last year. If Future Max hadn't come, the Roswell aliens would know so much less than they knew now and the Skins might have figured out some other way to switch the Tesses. If the Thing had never gotten pregnant, they might have never figured out that something was wrong.

The Jeep pulled into the Quarry, clouds of red dust poofing up. The tears were coming under control now, but Liz still gratefully fell into Max's arms when he pulled open her door, reaching for her. They stood together, in a tight embrace, until the sounds of an approaching car caused them to spring apart. Liz forgot to breathe as she watched the battered red Jetta squeal across the dusty ground, heading directly for them. When it finally came to a stop, Maria was the first one out, wrapping Liz in a giant hug. They shared the Kleenex and then turned to watch as Michael walked around the Jetta, leaning in to help the other backseat passengers out.

Michael shot Max a grim look, which caused the other boy to walk quickly over to the car. Liz watched as whatever Max saw made him curse softly under his breath. He waved the passengers back, leaning into the car to perform his healing. Through the back window, a gentle white glow filtered through and despite what she wanted, Liz couldn't quite make her feet take her over there. As long as she stayed here, what Max told her stayed the truth. So instead, her eyes took in every detail as she saw how Max's knees buckled, sending him to the ground where threads of the red dirt swirled around him. Finally, the glow disappeared and Michael helped Max to his feet. Liz came forward then, lending Max her strength. They backed up a few steps as Isabel climbed out of the car, reaching into the car to help the others out. Michael crossed over to wrap an arm around Maria and they formed a loose semi-circle between the two cars.

They stood there, the five of them, watching the two of their missing members blink at the brightness of the sun. Tess was clinging to Alex, her fingers wrapped around his arm, holding onto him like a lifeline. Alex pulled her close to him, nestling her against his body. He looked down at her and then up at his friends, a shadow of his former bright grin crossing his face. His gaze met Isabel's eyes and the smile faded. Alex reached out his free hand to her and she took it. His eyelids lowered at the feel of her skin against his and his long fingers tightened on her hand. Alex looked down at Tess and spoke to her in a hoarse voice,   
"We're free, babe."   
She stirred, pulling away from him a little. Glancing up at him, she swallowed hard, her throat working. Finally she asked, a thready whisper of sound,   
"Free?"   
His blue eyes scanned his friends, all of them with their emotions displayed on their faces, even Michael. He gathered his women closer, and replied,   
"Yeah, we're free."   
  
  



	5. Strip Poker

Strip Poker Author's Notes: I was so upset and betrayed by the second season finale, I've decided that I'm going to delude myself into believing that this series is really how it ended. This is the fifth (final?) story in the "High Stakes" series. You're going to need to have to read the previous stories for this one to make sense. I wrote this fic as if it would take place instead of "The Departure," so blanket warning for all of the two seasons. It sorta turned into a labor of love for me, so please feedback me. I need the validation. 

**The Deal**

They realized they couldn't stay at the Quarry all day and it was decided that they would travel to a roadside diner twenty minutes away. Hopefully, given the early hour, there would be no one there who could identify them. The Valentis were called then and were instructed to meet the group at the diner with the It. Isabel and Michael went into the diner first, checking out the other patrons. When they were satisfied it was safe, Michael went back to get the others while Isabel staked out a large table in a deserted corner. 

Alex and Tess didn't even need to look at a menu. They knew what they wanted. Alex ordered a large glass of orange soda with a platter of chocolate-chip pancakes. Tess wanted a bowl of strawberry ice-cream, drizzled with hot fudge. Maria got teary-eyed and gratefully leaned into Michael when he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Isabel scooted closer to Alex, who kept absently touching her, as if to reassure himself she was really there. Liz was watching Max as the alien boy tried to draw Tess out of the protective shell that had formed during her months of captivity. Every time he touched her, the barest brush of his fingers, caused her to flinch and soon Tess was practically sitting in Alex's lap. Alex didn't even seem to notice and Isabel frowned at the casual way his fingers ran through Tess's blond curls. It was finally starting to dawn on the group that they didn't get their old friends back. It was Tess and Alex, but their experiences during the last few months had irrevocably changed them, connecting the two in a way none of the others would be able to understand. 

It was almost a welcome distraction when the Valentis showed up. The Sheriff was leading the way and he saw the lost-now-found ones first. His face paled and he wavered a bit. The teens were afraid that the man, he who had seen so much already, was going to keel over. However, he got control of himself and kept walking, forcing himself not to look back at the female who was leaning against his son for support. Kyle hadn't mentioned the group's theory that this Tess was a skin because the others had impressed upon him the importance of acting natural around the impostor. Yet he also didn't know that their Tess, the real one, had been rescued. When his father slid into a seat, Kyle found himself staring at two pairs of blue eyes, eyes he hadn't thought he'd see again. 

Max palmed a knife and stood. Under the guise of helping the Skin to a seat, he forced it down and melted the knife, binding its wrists together. Playing along, Liz knocked a fork off the table and Max graciously bent down to pick it up. However, he instead used it to bind the Skin's ankles, extending the metal to wrap around the chair legs. It tried to protest, accusing Tess and Alex of being the Skins, reminding the others about the funeral and even went as far as mentioning its "delicate condition." The only reaction it got was a wince from Max and Liz about the pregnancy. The others were ignoring It, involved in filling the Valentis in on the events of the day. Invariably, the questions soon turned to what had happened before the captives were rescued. Silence blanketed the table, the only sounds being the scrape of utensils against the plates. Then, then the tale begun...   
  
  
  


**King of Spades: Alex**

"I think they picked me even before they took Tess. You know how the outer space dwelling aliens can't come here physically? Well, they needed a host for Kivar and I guess they'd figured who better than a close friend of the Royal Four? Lonnie chose me, instead of one of the girls. She liked the irony of Kivar inhabiting Isabel's ex. Sorta repeating history, y'know? 

I don't know the first time he invaded me. In the beginning, he kinda just cased the joint, to see if he wanted this model or if he wanted to trade it in. I was a little shorter than he woulda liked, but he decided I was a keeper. Soon, he started staying longer, but mostly at night. I'd go to sleep and wake up on the couch in the living room or sitting in a chair in the kitchen. I thought I was just sleepwalking, y'know? 'Cept I wasn't. 

The idea to translate the book was mine. I'd been thinking about the language problem ever since Liz told me about it. All the answers you guys ever needed or wanted, it had to be all there, if you could only read it. I showed Isabel that picture in the UFO Center, of the Mayan language. Linguists had managed to translate some of that language and it was so similar to yours. I just knew there had to be a way. Kivar apparently liked the idea too. 

I didn't know it then, but everything I knew, everything that was floating around in my brain, he had access to. All of my dreams, my thoughts, my memories, he could see, could use. Gradually, I was spending less and less time with you guys, more time by myself. I was constantly eating Thai food, without even knowing why I was craving it. Without realizing it, I was losing more and more time until the divider between me and Kivar fell. It was like this sudden awareness of an alien presence flooded through my consciousness, but it was too late. 

The majority of time, he was in control, but he couldn't hold me for long periods of time. It was like eighteen hours out of every day, he was at the controls, and then for four hours, I got to take a spin. Kivar was the one who arranged the Sweden cover and who enrolled me in Las Cruz. The longer he spent in me, the more our connection grew. Just like he had access to my mind, I could read his. I had a vague awareness of what he was doing as he was doing it. Some of the stuff he used me for... 

At the University, whenever I was in control, I worked like a madman on decoding the book. I was hoping I could finish it when I was in charge. I planned on emailing it to one of you and then deleting it without reading it. He thought it was funny, how I thought I could outsmart him. He...he liked t-to taunt me about it. Still, I wouldn't give up. One night, in the lab, this girl walks in. Beautiful blonde. Started talking to me. I didn't talk back. I wanted her to go away. It wasn't safe to be around me. There was this delivery guy I liked to joke around with and Kivar...well, I just wanted her to leave. She wouldn't budge. Her name was Serena and she started telling me all these things about me. Things that no one but Liz or Maria knew. 

To make a long story short, she sorta became my mentor. Yoda to my Luke. Sere taught me how to erect a shield around a small corner of my brain. Whenever I wasn't in the driver's seat, I sorta lived in that little corner. She told me about the Granilith, what it was, where it was. I hid it all behind that shield. When I finally managed to finish the decoding, I was able to send a copy to her. She promised me that if Kivar- if he ever stopped needing me, she'd find a way to get the translation to you guys. 

Just getting the translation wasn't enough for him. There was some kind of prophecy in the book, something about the four square and their new world. He came back to Roswell to make sure no one knew about the spy, the Skin he planted in place of Tess. He also became fascinated with Isabel. He'd go on for hours, rambling about the contrasts and similarities between her and Vilandra. He delighted in leaving me notes in my bedroom, taped to my mirror, all about how no one could tell the difference between me and him and how he thought Isabel was falling in love with me all over again. He liked that, the irony. It wasn't really me, y'know? The only time I got control anymore was in the morning, the very, very early morning. 

By now, he knew I was hiding something from him. He'd scanned my memories before, knew that I'd never been told the location of the Granilith, but he knew it had to be something important that I'd risk...that I'd hide it from him. I always knew there'd be a time he'd stop, uh, needing me, but I never imagined he'd fake my death. He was smart about it, too. Kept thinking it broad, final, terms. I didn't have a clue until he started talking all depressed to the delivery guy. I managed to sneak up on him, to wrest just a tiny bit of control from him. He didn't even realize he wasn't signing my name. 

He got into the car and started driving. Then the semi came rounding a corner and he just drove into it. When I came to, I was in the cell with Tess. She looked after me then and after every time I-I had an interview session with Nicholas. Lonnie and Rath stopped in for a bit of fun every now and again. We took care of each other. The Skins, they needed us, because we were the only ones in there with the location of the Granilith. When we found out the Impostor was pregnant, we knew they weren't going to need us anymore. So we figured that there was no time like the present to escape. And so here we are."   
  
  
  


**The Bet**

When he finished speaking, Alex shoved a piece of pancake in his mouth. His food had long gone cold, but he was past caring. He knew that he'd left a great many holes in his story. None of the missing information was essential, though, and would cause his friends only more pain with the telling. He met Max's eyes and realized that the other boy understood, in part, what he had gone through. True, the aliens could be more creative in their methods, but torture was torture, no matter how you sliced it. 

Next to him, he could hear the gentle catch in Isabel's breath that told him she was crying. Before, he might have comforted her, gathered her up in a warm embrace. Now he felt too raw, too fragile himself, to take on someone else's pain. Tess kept a hand on his thigh, not asking or giving, just reminding him she was there. Reminding him that she'd been back there too. He stared across the table at the Skin that wore her face. A rage he had carefully kept in check for the last month flooded through him now and with it, a deep hatred. It had no right to wear her face. He glanced at the knife balanced on his plate and images of what he could do with it raced through his mind. 

The feelings in Alex reminded Tess of another hatred and it frightened her, causing her to pull away. He felt the slight movement and was sorry for it. He breathed in deeply, trying to reharness those violent emotions. His fingers clenched into fists and he pressed down on the table, trying to give himself some outlet for the pain. 

The silence at the table was nearly unbearable for Maria as she watched Alex's knuckles slowly turn white. Why must all the men in her life go through this? Michael with Hank, Max with Pierce and now Alex with the Skins. Even Kyle and the Sheriff had suffered, first with Kyle's shooting and then with the events surrounding Laurie Dupree. Her heart ached, but she knew, the wisdom coming from a hidden place deep inside her, that all of it was necessary. Their future would be the better for it. She was willing to wager her own life on it. 

Alex relaxed his hands, flexing his fingers. Maria saw his hand disappear under the table and she knew that he was reaching for Tess, not Isabel. She wondered what this would mean for the group. She wondered as she realized that it had been Kivar Isabel had taken to the Prom, Kivar Isabel had kissed, and it was even Kivar, in a way, that Isabel had grieved for. What would it mean for all of them? 

The waitress came over, pouring coffee for those who wanted it. Alex had been whispering into Tess's ear and when the waitress left, he stopped. It was time for the tale to continue.   
  
  
  


**Queen of Diamonds: Tess**

"I-I'm not too sure where to start. Things are, are a little, um, hazy." 

"Just start at the beginning, babe. With Ava." 

"Ok-kay. Um. When they came to Roswell, before we were supposed to leave on the road trip, Ava came to see me. She wanted to warn me that things in New York were going to be different than I was used to. She said that I shouldn't think of Lonnie and Rath the same way I did Michael and Isabel. That they were all different people. That we were different. She told me to stay with Max and not go off alone. I just thought she was being paranoid. I didn't-t understand. 

I didn't remember what she said until it was too late. I was so angry at Lonnie and Rath, I wanted to-to make them pay. They tried to hurt Max. And I wasn't the one to protect him. Liz was. Somehow, she knew and she came, and I was nothing. Just a figurehead. I was angry. They somehow knew I'd chase after them, were lying in wait. I turned the corner and found myself staring into...into _that_. Then everything went dark. 

When I woke up, I was in the cell. Lonnie and Rath were there, so was Nicholas. They said I'd made it so easy for them. I was so predictable. They told me Max hadn't even noticed a difference. That he bought the plant. I-I didn't believe them. But then they started bringing photographs and videos. I didn't want to believe they were real, but they all had Max with her. Not with the Impostor. I knew then, I remembered that night, and I knew it was real. 

With Ava gone, they couldn't kill me, and they needed what was in my head. Nicholas..." 

Silence twisting through hearts, tiny razors sliding through veins. Images floating on air, polluting minds. 

"C'mon, babe, you need to tell them." 

"I don't _want_ to. It hurts." 

"I know, Tess. But you have to. They need to know." 

Mask of hesitance, forged in terror. Lurking sorrow, hidden agony, giving the food a bitter taste. 

"He used his powers on me. Every day. He needed to know about the Granilith, where it was. I hid it away, everything I knew about us, about our race. I wrapped it all in a thick shield and tried to forget I knew it, that it was even there. He kept hammering away at it, coming again and again, until it seemed like my brain was all jumbled. I couldn't remember what was real or not. I forgot so much. Faces blurred and I had such a hard time remembering who was who..." 

"When they dumped me in there, she barely knew her own name." 

"I'm pretty sure I tried to escape once. But they caught me and I-I got punished. Still, I fought. Despite everything else, I knew it was important that I keep the shield up. Time sorta just slid by. I lost track of how long I'd been there. Sometimes it felt like I'd never existed anywhere else. Then Alex came. He was so battered and bruised. There was so much blood. I thought maybe he was a plant, but then he said Isabel's name and I knew he was real too. I was weak, but I couldn't just let him die. I'd been alone for so long. I needed him and he needed me. 

I helped him get better. It was so hard, though. Nicholas started taking him right away. It took so long for him to heal. But I took care of him and he helped me remember when they came for me...He told me stories about everything I'd missed. About Christmas and Vegas and the Prom. It helped bring some life into that place. Then Lonnie came. She told us about the baby, about Max and the Impostor. We-we knew we had to do something. Just after they brought him, he'd been able to, um, connect with Isabel. We knew it was the only way we could get a message out. He found the path and I gave him the strength to walk it. We knew that once you all did something, Nicholas would know. Know that we did something. And since they knew Alex was human...they'd-" 

"We planned our escape and you know the rest."   
  
  


**The Ante**

Isabel stared down at the ugly off-white coffee mug sitting in front of her and she was seized with the sudden urge to hurl the thing against the wall, just to hear the satisfying chaos of destruction. She wished she had blasted Nicholas when she got the chance. The idea of murdering another being all those months ago had felt foreign to her, but now she craved his blood on her hands. The crimes he had committed against those she cared for were unforgivable. She wanted to peel each layer of his Husk away, slowly exposing him to the poisonous atmosphere of Earth. She wanted to hear him scream, to cry out in pain, as he made Alex and Tess do. The emotion Isabel was feeling went so much beyond hatred that it scared her and she ended up taking a gulp of the now freezing coffee. 

Glancing over at the pair, she could see the gentle way Tess was leaning against Alex, the now familiar sight of them holding hands. It was like they were so used to turning to each other for comfort, it was natural for them. This scared her too, those little touches. She and Alex had never developed that closeness that came from absolute comfort in another's presence. An insidious part of her brain was trying to figure out when she decided that she wanted Alex again. Before all this, she had thought it was just that she was tired of being alone, of rejecting love on the slim chance she might leave. She thought that real love would survive anything. She thought she could love Alex. Now she wondered if it hadn't been Alex at all. She wondered if the part of her that was Vilandra somehow recognized Kivar in his human host. In Alex. 

She was startled by a light touch on her arm. Turning her head, she found Alex watching her, his eyes different than she remembered. There was the old cliched saying, eyes are the windows to the soul. Well, his eyes were telling her that he'd been through a war. There was fear lurking in their depths and she found herself trying to grasp the horrible thought that Lonnie might have took her form when they were...when they were...Isabel reached out and grasped Alex's free hand, squeezing it tightly. She would see them all dead. It was a promise. 

Tess felt some of the tension in Alex's body relax. Isabel's reaction to their stories had worried him most of all. He had told her some of the things Kivar made him do, had wept hot tears over the despair he'd inadvertently caused. Alex was such a kind person; Liz and Maria had more of an influence on him than they ever could have guessed. She pulled away a little from Alex and let him focus his attention on Isabel. Slowly, her gaze slid across the table to the Valentis. The Sheriff had his hands clenched together and was staring hotly at the Impostor. Kyle was watching her, Tess, an unreadable expression on his face. Warily, she met his eyes, and waited. He searched her eyes, looking for some unknown thing. She caught her breath, wondering if he'd still like her, now that she was damaged. 

Nicholas had left his mark on her. She would never be just Tess again. She hadn't really known who Tess was when they snatched her. The Valentis, being part of a real family, it had started to change her. Now her growth was stunted. She would never be just Tess. Kyle finally smiled at her and to her horror, she felt a light blush on her cheeks. She ducked her head, looking at him shyly through her lashes. Maybe...maybe Alex was right. Maybe she could be better than Tess. 

Liz and Max had been arguing in low voices, the tension radiating from them. Suddenly, Max slammed a palm on the table and shot a glare at the Skin. It stared back coolly, which only seemed to infuriate Max more. He ordered It to talk and it wasn't the request of a teenaged boy. It was the command of an alien King, saturated with all the threat and power at Max's disposal. The next chapter of the tale was to be told.   
  
  
  


**Jack of Clubs: The Skin**

"You all think you're so goddamn smart. High and mighty Max Evans, the King of an alien race, and he can't even keep his sister in line. Hell, he can't even tell the difference between a friend and an enemy-" 

"Shut up! Just tell us why you're here. You owe us that." 

"I don't owe you _anything_, Miss Parker. You think you're soooo special. You waited patiently, ripping your way through boys' hearts, waiting for that one special man. And then, oh! It's like a fairy tale- he saves you, brings you back from a mortal wound. But it's not enough that you find love. No, you have to milk it, trying to garner attention, sympathy. 'I was thisclose to death and then Max brought me back, but we can't be together. He has _responsibilities.' _Then you bravely try to make it work, all burning with passion, fueled by a deep-abiding 'love.' Of course, you still won't let yourself be happy. No, you want to be _noble._ You chuck away a wonderful man, a soulmate type of love, all for some ideal, some greater purpose that may or may not still exist. Because you want to do the 'right thing.' It's all bullshit. The truth is you're terrified that if you don't walk away now, he's going to leave _you_. And wouldn't that just be a blow to your ego. God forbid you fight for him, no, it's all about not being hurt. You're such a weakling. I definitely don't owe you anything. I don't owe any of you. 

It was so easy. You all saw what you wanted to see. Tess didn't belong. With Nasedo gone, there was no one who truly knew her well. It was pathetically easy to take her place. You pride yourselves on being such good friends. Bullshit. You didn't notice when she was gone and you didn't notice when Lord Kivar occupied your friend there. You were so self-involved in your own melodramas. Really, you all only have yourselves to blame for all this. 

Hell, Vilandra, I think you liked the change, didn't you? Lord Kivar moved into your boy there and you couldn't get close enough. You even swallowed your pride and asked him to take you to a stupid high school dance. You had your tongue down his throat before the second slow dance was over. The two of you disappeared at the end there. Did you do more than kiss? Finally move into the grown-up leagues?" 

"Isabel, sit _down_. You're going to attract attention." 

"Oh yes, Isabel. Do listen to your King. Lord of this dirtball. What's that earth saying? Keep your friends close, your enemies closer? You certainly did that, didn't you, Max? Was it good for you, baby? It certainly was good for me. You helped bring us all one step closer to home. I would've pulled it off too, except one of you removed your head from your ass and finally saw the truth. Or did the little captives stage their coup first? On second thought, I doubt that. What could a worn-out host and a blonde moron do? 

Although the two of you certainly did provide good entertainment. There were videos, did you know that? Rath and Lonnie used to host little premiers, inviting all the off-duty soldiers. I think I liked the one of you and Rath in the showers. You know the one, don't you, Tess? The one where he tied you to the shower head and-" 

Crack in the air of flesh against flesh. Temperatures rising, emotions boiling over. Stench of betrayal in the air. 

"Abusing the prisoner? I didn't think that was in the good guy code. Still, it was a decent hit, Kyle. Wouldn't have expected a white hat to be able to throw a punch like that. Don't you dare look at me like that! You're all so comfortable on your moral high ground, you don't even realize you haven't a clue what this war is really about." 

"You want the Granilith." 

"Sorry, Perfect Parker, no bonus points for you. Thanks for playing. Too bad you didn't use a lifeline." 

"Then what do you want?" 

"Oh, the King deigns to talk to the peasant. I'm sooo flattered. Now, will you actually listen? Yeah, Kivar and Nicholas want the Granilith. The rest of us just want to survive. We don't give a damn about some glowy object of power. We just want to live. To go home. But no. The Fates gave the Granilith to a bunch of kids who don't even understand its power. You may just view this all as a minor inconvenience, but it's life or death for us. Still view yourself as some benevolent ruler? You're as good as murdering us, just because you don't want Kivar to score any points. Maybe the rebel faction is right, after all. Maybe Michael there should be the Head Jedi. 

Oh-ho. Didn't know about that, didja? Bad boy, Michael. Been keeping secrets from your King? That's an act of treason, you know. King Zan would've probably ordered you executed. But I think we both know that Max isn't half the man Zan was. Being a ruler is a little much for him. He should kill me. But he won't. Because, no matter how much you hate it, this is still your son inside of me. Our child. You kill me, you kill him. You may want to spill my blood, but can you spill his?"   
  
  


**The Discard**

Max wanted to vomit. He was fuckin' seventeen and he shouldn't have to make these kind of decisions. He wanted to break down and weep. He wanted more time. He didn't want to deal with this now. He wanted to run away. None of those were options. It was decision time. Desperate, Max looked into Liz's eyes. She always had the power to cause his emotions to wrap themselves into knots, but this time he found a measure of calm. She rested a palm on his cheek and he held it there, savoring the feel of her skin against his again. A warm glow raced through his body, chasing away the nausea. And then he knew what to do. 

Rising to his feet, he nodded at Michael and Isabel. Isabel slowly got up, but the look in her eyes...she would take pride in her work this day. Before Michael could stand, Kyle did. He and Max looked at each other for a long moment, before Max waved Michael down. Kyle needed to be there. Kyle and Isabel both grabbed an arm of the Skin, pulling it up. Max walked in front, blocking It from the rest of the patrons. They took the Skin around back. Isabel yanked It from Kyle's grip and threw It against the Dumpster. She stood over it and found herself trembling with emotion. Possibilities ran through her mind, things she could do, things she wanted to do. The Skin stared up at her through familiar blue eyes and she wanted to smash that mask. Yet something held her back. She didn't know who was in the driver's seat. Vilandra or Isabel? 

Kyle wiped a hand over his face, hating the smell of garbage that filled his lungs. He watched as Max pulled Isabel back and knelt before the small figure, connecting with It. Part of him was still trying to wrap his mind around what was happening. The woman he'd kissed at the Prom, the sister who made his favorite foods, the female who comforted him at night when he woke up in a sweat, sure he'd been shot...that person didn't exist. Not really. He brought an image of the other Tess to mind. Kyle could remember the hint of hope among the wariness in her eyes. His body had reacted to that look, and he felt as he did when he first saw her prancing around in his Jersey. This was his vulnerable, sexy kitten. How could he ever think _that_ was her? Kyle didn't normally hit girls, but he still felt a vicious pleasure when the memory of hitting the Skin surfaced. Tess had been shrinking as It spoke; she'd been curling into a tiny ball, huddling against Alex, who didn't look much better. If he was going to be honest, his reaction had been more due to the fact that Rath had...used her than the pain It was causing. Tess was his. 

Max rose to his feet, sweat beaded on his forehead. The Skin was screaming at him, awful words. Tears were streaming down Its face, proving that loss crossed all racial boundaries. Max stared down at the pathetic thing at his feet, flexing his hand absently. Then he looked at Isabel and Kyle, before turning his back and walking a few paces away. Kyle pulled the Skin up, turning It around to face Isabel. The blonde alien drew her hand back, but then something shifted in her eyes. Instead, she placed an   
almost-gentle hand on the Skin's shoulder, her fingers glowing lightly. Kyle felt It jerk in his hands, as whatever Isabel did kicked in. Horrible sounds escaped Its lips, mewling sounds, like those of a newborn kitten. 

The sounds began to increase in intensity and Kyle knew that It soon would be screaming. Isabel leaned forward and whispered something in Its ear. The trembling in the Skin's body was becoming violent and It started to talk. Everything from the number of soldiers on Earth, to the locations of bases, and even betraying some other spies. A few names would have been a surprise if they were still capable of feeling. Max turned around and issued a command. He stood and watched as Kyle turned the Skin around. Isabel lifted Its shirt and searched for the release switch. Finding it, she crossed over to the dumpster. Morphing a piece of cardboard into a pipe, Isabel stood back behind the It. She swung at Its back, missing the switch several times. Moans of pain floated throughout the alley and finally, Isabel sobbed once, landing the pipe squarely on the release switch. 

Kyle's hands were suddenly empty, flakes drifting through the air, reminding him of the fake snow in waterglobes. They lazily fell, some caught by the wind, others pulled by gravity, to rest at their feet. This wasn't the first time he'd seen a Skin dead. It was the first time it had been someone he loved. Sprinting over to the Dumpster, he vomited, emptying his body of everything. His throat burned and tears came to his eyes. He wished it was only this easy to cleanse his mind. 

Isabel and Max had hugged, each needing the other's comfort. They had done things today, things they had thought existed only in nightmares. There had been blood on their hands before, but now it meant something. No longer could they just defend. Now they could kill. Even their own flesh and blood. Isabel let her brother go and went to Kyle, pulling him gently away from the Dumpster. She used her powers to clean him up and then thanked him. He nodded silently at her in acknowledgement. 

The trio returned to their table, somber expressions on their faces. Two lives had been reclaimed on this day, and two lives had been lost. Was it justice? The past had been told, and now the present needed to be planned..   
  
  


** Ten of Hearts: The Group**

"So what do we do now, Max?" 

"Why does everyone always ask _me_ that?" 

"Maybe because you're the King?" 

"Very funny, Kyle." 

"Wasn't trying to be funny." 

"Look, let's just calm down and examine our priorities." 

"Okay, what's with you?" 

"What are you talking about, spaceboy?" 

"Priorities? That's a Liz word. You don't use Liz words. You're Maria." 

"I think I've just been insulted." 

"God, Michael! Liz and Max have enough to deal with right now. Excuse me for trying to be the sane one." 

"Since when are we the sane ones?" 

"It's just not natural! You're supposed to be the blonde ditzy one. Liz is the brain, Isabel is the Prom Queen and Tess is the mysterious other woman. You're the airbrained cheerleader." 

"Now I _know_ I've been insulted." 

"ARGH!" 

"I can't believe you just chucked your water glass in his face. Go Maria." 

"Maria-" 

"Don't start with me, Max. I'm sure Izzy wouldn't mind if I used hers too." 

"Um, not to interrupt, but, uh, we'd just like to go home." 

"Home?" 

"Alex-" 

"You can't." 

"Oh, honey." 

"Isabel? What are they talking about?" 

"Alex...everyone thinks you're dead." 

"I know, but...oh. There was a funeral?" 

"Yeah." 

"A lot of people showed up. Maria sang." 

"I think somebody videotaped it if you wanna see." 

"Kyle!" 

"Ow, Liz! I was just saying, 'cause you know if I came back from the dead, I'd wanna see who bothered to show up at my sendoff." 

"Kyle, you are such a dipwad." 

"My parents?" 

"Your mother requested a transfer to another post. It came through last week. They're moving back east. So far they've left your room alone. They let me sit in it, whenever it got...bad." 

"Oh, God, Izzy..." 

"Shhh...it'll be okay. We'll think of something." 

"Ahem. Tess will come home with us, of course." 

"D-do you mean that, Sheriff?" 

"It's just Jim now, Tess. I'm not the Sheriff anymore." 

"Oh. I don't think he told me this story. Can he, um, come with us?" 

"Who? Alex?" 

"Geez, Kyle, you're gonna end up sleeping in the bathtub." 

"Max, can you please tell your dorkbrained second-in-command to be quiet?" 

"Michael, be quiet." 

"Thanks, girlfriend." 

"You are so whipped, Maxwell." 

"Actually, it would probably make the most sense for Alex to stay with the Valentis." 

"What do you mean, Liz?" 

"Well, we can't bring Alex back to Roswell as Alex. So we need some kind of explanation. Like passing him off as a distant cousin or something. Since the Sheri-since Jim is the only adult who knows the truth..." 

"No, I think he should stay with Michael." 

"What?" 

"With Michael?" 

"With Guerin?" 

"What are you cooking up, cheesehead?" 

"Alex moves in with Michael, we don't need to pass him off as somebody's cousin, which hello, we already have one annoying permanant houseguest in Roswell. Since Michael can cover the rent alone, they should both be able to cover half of the expenses. And if one of the few people outside our little group who can stand to talk to Michael asks about Alex, spaceboy should have enough brains to remember that Alex is an old friend that he knew before he moved to Roswell." 

"Wow, Maria, that's..." 

"Are you feeling okay, because now that I think about it, Michael did have a point-" 

"Li-izzz!" 

"But-but, then, I'll be alone..." 

"No, you won't, Tess. Dad and I will both be there. We'll protect you." 

"But..." 

"Um, maybe...maybe she could stay with me. Just for a couple of nights. Until we, uh, readjust." 

"Alex? Tell us." 

"Isabel...you can't understand. You weren't there, you don't know. What the Skin said about those videos...both of us-I mean, it's just that-" 

"It's not just what they did to us. It's what we did, too. Sometimes...sometimes if they wanted people punished or-or disposed of, they put us in a room with them and we'd...I killed a human once. Nicholas had been so rough with him that day and I was just so furious, I didn't...I didn't know until-until it was too late. I could barely look at him when they brought me back..." 

"She wakes up in the night gagging because she thinks she can still smell the burning...It's not easy. What they did to us, it's changed us. We're-we're darker now. We just need a little time-" 

"-to get used to living in the light again." 

"Okay. Okay. Here's what we're gonna do. We're gonna pay this bill, leaving our poor waitress a very big tip. Then we're going to go out to the cars. We're driving back to the Quarry. Once we get there, Isabel is going to--fix Alex's appearance. When that's done, we're splitting up and heading back to Roswell. Alex and Tess are going back with the Valentis. Get all the school stuff, clothes and everything. Liz, Isabel, and I will, um, pick up some things for Alex. Maria, take Michael back to his place and start making it liveable again." 

"Hey! My place is clean." 

"Yeah, the roaches recommend it to all their friends." 

"Cheesehead." 

"Dorkbutt." 

"If you want people to stop asking you what to do, you're going to have to stop being so smart." 

"Oh, gag me. They're doing it again." 

"To think I actually missed those sugary sweet looks." 

"Well, it's better than them sniping at each other." 

"We can hear you, you know." 

"That's never stopped you before, now has it, Maxwell?" 

"Maria, it's bad enough when Michael calls me that..." 

"It's really over, isn't it?" 

"Yeah, babe. It's really over."   
  
  


**The Draw**

They paid the check, with the Sheriff covering the lion's share, since both Isabel and Liz didn't have their wallets. The sun was creeping higher in the sky, as they had spent two hours in the dingy diner. They divided up into the groups Max had assigned them. There was a brief moment of amusement as Maria and Michael started scuffling with each other over possession of the Jetta keys. Michael had been winning until Maria used the three inch heels on her platforms on Michael's foot. With victory firmly in her grasp, she sprinted to the car and slid into the driver's seat, seconds ahead of Michael's retalitatory strike. 

Tess and Alex discussed something quietly for a moment before climbing into the Sheriff's truck. Alex took the front passenger seat, leaving Tess and Kyle in the back. Both Alex and Tess rolled their windows all the way down, luxurating in the feel of warm sunlight. Isabel wistfully watched them go, wishing she didn't have to ride with the cooing lovebirds. Per Max's instructions, she clicked on the cell phone and dialed up Alex's parents. She'd gotten quite close to them over the last month. They'd both lost someone they loved. When she explained her reason for calling, they were almost pathetically grateful. They'd been saving Alex's room for last to pack up. The thickness in his mom's voice- it was one of those times she wished more than anything she'd been born human. 

She was curled up against the side of the car, but she was facing him, which was all he needed right now. Kyle wished he could touch her, but he didn't think she'd be ready for that for a while. So he just looked at her. It was alarming how much he felt in such a short time. He hadn't known this girl for months; the last time he'd kissed her had been so long ago, he'd nearly forgotten what she tasted like. Yet, oh God, he wanted her, but it was also more than that. It went deeper. Soul deep. Dammit, he'd been hanging around with Max too long. It was a good thing he and Liz were back together, because this time Kyle planned on fighting. The next child she had would be his. Whoa. Whoa. Wait a sec. That was very...yeah. His brain was definitely on overload. As he blinked in astonishment at his own thoughts, he almost missed the hesitant look in Tess's eyes. But he didn't. He very slowly smiled at her and quirked an eyebrow. She flushed again, that dusky rose he found so appealing, and inched her hand over so it was touching his. Carefully, he linked their fingers together and felt like a King himself when she didn't pull away. Oh yeah, he was definitely going to explode. Through the steam building up in his head, he heard Alex whistling. But, damn, it felt good. 

Michael and Maria would be the first to admit that they had relationship issues. Their off-again, on-again, method had its own chapter in the Roswell High handbook. Yet, it was practically a given that no matter how many times they were off, they'd always end up back in the on position. Kyle and Max had both cracked up when Liz used that phrase. She'd just huffed and called them both horndogs. Michael and Maria were currently heading towards an off phase. Michael was convinced something was up with Maria and Maria was becoming highly aggravated with his relentless questions. So what if she knew stuff? Since when was that a crime? Michael reminded her that it wasn't so much the stuff she was saying as the way she was saying it. Maria had done a pretty good job of putting up with what she considered grevious insults, but when Michael raised the possibility that _she_ was a Skin, the Jetta immediately swerved over to the side of the road. Michael never did figure out how she managed to get him out of the car, but the next thing, he knew he was staring at the tail lights as she sped away. Luckily for him, the Jeep pulled over once Max became aware of his predictament. 

When they finally arrived at the Quarry, Maria had worked herself into a fine tiff and Michael had his hands full, calming his ruffled pixie. Isabel and Alex went off to the side, behind the cars. Tess was still holding Kyle's hand and was watching the Guerin-DeLuca brawl, fascinated. Max and Liz were talking quietly, leaning against the Jeep. The Sheriff was thinking that he spent way too much time with the kids and planned on calling Amy later that night. 

Every good tale has a beginning, middle and end. The past had been brought to light, the present was in motion, but what about the future? As the group waited for Isabel to finish altering Alex's appearance, their tale began to draw to a close.   
  
  


** Ace of Spades: Maria**   
**** ****

"Don't talk to me, Michael! Insufferable jerk! I don't even know why I bother putting up with you. You know what you are? You're a man! Yeah. That's it. That's exactly what you are. A man. Don't roll your eyes at me! You are an egotistical, chauvenstic, thinks-with-his-dick MAN!"

"Thank you."

"ARGH! You listen to me, Michael Guerin, because I am only going to say this one more time. I am not now nor have I ever been a Skin."

"It was just a possible explanation-"

"Possible explanation? Possible explanation for what? Your rampant paranoia? You really have a problem when you suspect your **own **_girlfriend _of being one of the enemy. You've been in my bedroom, you've seen my furniture. Do I have a cabinet of moisturizer like Bottled Blonde did? Have I started buying loofas in the bulk? No. Do you ever find icky skin peelings lying around? No. Because I AM. NOT. A. SKIN."

"I was just sayin'-"

"Um, excuse me. I know I've missed a lot, but I, uh, have a question. You and Michael, um, y'know?"

"Um...Well, kinda, yeah. But trust me, Tess, it was obviously an error in judgement that doesn't bear repeating."

"Awww, c'mon, Maria. Don't be hasty here. I was just sayin'-"

"He told me this story. About the Bonding."

"He? You mean Alex? And what's this bonding thing? It sounds too much like cementing for...Oh shit. Tess, tell me I'm wrong. Tell me it's not like cementing."

"I don't know what cementing is."

"Maria, what's goin-"

"So tell me what the bonding is."

"It's a ceremony for our people. Like a wedding. Except there's no equivalent of a divorce for us. It's for life. He read all about this in the book."

"Ohmigod. Oh my GOD. I need air. I need to breathe. Dammit, Michael! My mother was right! Do you know how annoying it is to admit she was RIGHT? I cannot _believe_ this is happening. Michael, would you say something already? It takes the two of us for this, you know. C'mon, spaceboy, let's hear your two cents on this. Michael? Mich-HEY! Where the HELL do you think you're going? Don't you dare walk away from me, Guerin!

Dammit. The next time I go traisiping through the desert on a rescue mission, I'm wearing sneakers. Michael, will you slow _down_ for God's sake? Didn't you hear what Tess just said? We're mated. FOR LIFE. There's no way you can leave me behind now, Michael. Anywhere you run to, I'll still be there. I'm in you now. Just like you're in me. That's where all this stuff is coming from, y'know. From you. Because I'm saying what you can't. Dammit, spaceboy. Can't...can't you just _tell_ me?"

"Oh, what, are you graciously allowing me time to speak now?"

"God. Now I really need to catch my breath. Michael, please, just tell me."

"I thought you knew everything that's going around inside my head now, huh?"

"Tell me."

"...I knew."

"You knew? Before we...you had the translated copy of the book. You knew and didn't tell me? Why...I mean, how...no, I mean, why?"

"I sorta knew even before I read the translation. Y'know we've come pretty close before, and then, I knew on sort of an instinctual level. That you...that you were it for me. But you, you're human. So I figured..."

"You figured what I didn't know wouldn't hurt me. God. I don't even know what to say. Could you really just let me walk away like that? You'd just let me go, knowing-"

"I wasn't exactly planning on losing you, you know. On letting you just _go_. But if something happened, or if...you weren't happy...I wasn't gonna hold you back."

"Oh God. Oh Michael."

"Aw, baby, don't cry. You know I hate it when you do that."

"Tough."

"Are you still mad at me?"

"I wasn't mad, per say. More like highly miffed. It's a big adjustment. But I kinda knew, you were it for me too."

"So you still...?"

"I still. Always. You?"

"Ditto."

"After we get back, we have to work on expanding your vocabularly."

"Heh. I think Kyle's trying to wave us back. Either that or he's doing weirdass jumping jacks."

"With Kyle, you never know."

"True."

"There's still so much we all need to discuss. We haven't even started to talk about the Granilith."

"It'll keep."

"We can't just leave a potential weapon of destruction lying around!"

"You know, you do sound a _lot_ like Liz. Are you sure you're not a Skin?"

"Ooooh! You better run, Guerin, because when I get my hands on you, you're sooo in trouble."

"It's nice to see that some things don't ever change."   
  
  


**The Revelation**   
****

  


Once Max and Liz managed to pry Maria and Michael apart, Isabel led Alex into the group. The world fell silent as they tried to reconcile the two images of Alex in their minds. This new Alex was red-haired, with clear green eyes. Isabel had even altered his skin pigment, causing him to appear very fair and there was now a light dusting of freckles on his cheeks. His cheekbones were more pronouced and she'd managed to make him appear more muscular. It was quite a stunning change. Then, amused at the expressions on his friends' faces, he grinned. Despite all the physical alterations, the magic in that grin was still all Alex.

Tess shakily stepped forward and his grin faded. With the ease born of long familiarity, he reached out his hands and she slipped hers into them. Their eyes closed and the others in the group recognized the slight stiffening in their bodies as a connection being formed. Moments dragged by and suddenly tears began slipping down Tess's face. Seconds later, the connection broke and she threw herself into his arms.

Max watched the pair hug and felt something twist inside of him. It wasn't so much that he was jealous of the closeness between the two as it was that...that he was envious because they had each other. When Pierce took him, when he suffered in the hands of the FBI, there had been no one to share the experience with. Not that he wished what he'd been through on anyone else, but still...it would have been nice to have someone else who understood. Something brushed his hand and he tore his gaze away from Tess and Alex. Looking down, he watched as Liz's fingers curled around his palm, their warmth sinking beneath his skin. She'd seen what they'd done to him. It had been revealed to her by flashes when they kissed. Maybe she couldn't understand the pain, but she would gladly take some of the burden away if it would help him. Max knew he'd never let her do it, but to know that she would? It was enough.

She slowly pulled away from him, leaving the comfort of his arms. It had finally begun to sink in, she'd finally started to grasp the fact that they were free now. She wasn't the Tess she had been and he was now no longer the Alex he'd been. This moment, this second, everything irrevocably changed. They'd no longer be as close as they were because they had others now. This was what made her cry, the realization that the bond they had would be altered. And, and, Oh God, it hurt. But as she stepped back to her place next to Kyle, she knew that she would survive it. It might take a long time for the memories to stop haunting her, but they wouldn't keep her from moving forward. If she let them, then Nicholas and Lonnie and Rath really would've won. Hesitantly, Kyle put an arm around her shoulders and she turned her face up to him, smiling. She would survive.

His gaze traveled from Tess and Kyle around the group until it landed on Isabel. The girl was trying futily to hide the anxiety in her eyes. He grinned at her and she smiled back, a brilliant, radiant smile, that reminded him of when he stepped out of the compound into the sunlight for the first time in a month. His senses were dazzled and he felt vaguely cleansed as if all the dirt from his time in captivity had been bathed away. A lesser man might have re-fallen in love with Isabel Evans in that moment. However, his time in the hands of the Skins had honed him, forged an inner core of steel. He was stronger now than he'd ever been and as much as he wanted to collect on the promises in that smile, he knew they both had doubts. Doubts about who she really wanted, Kivar or Alex. He would sit down with his princess and they would talk. The doubts might fade and he would heal and then? Who knows? But there were possibilities again. And that was all he needed.

Alex, or rather, Andrew Maines as he would now be called, took a few steps back and all the teenagers were now standing in a loose circle, Valenti looking on. The words had been spoken, the tale was finished. Isabel, Liz and Max would drive to the Whitman house and pack up Alex's old room, on the pretext of donating it all. They would bring some of Alex's cherished possession to Michael's apartment, the only way they could give him back some of what he lost. The Valentis and Tess would drive back to their house. Tess would stand in her room and immediately change all the wood paneling to a cotton-candy pink. Kyle would come to the door, pretending disgust, and then toss her his jersey over his shoulder as he beat a retreat. Michael and Maria would drive back to Roswell in silence, each lost in their own thoughts about the new status of their relationship, but their hands would be resting on the console, fingers entwined.

They did not live happily ever after, because this is not a fairy tale. Happiness comes and goes, based on the whims of life. However, they did live, despite all odds, and this indeed is the moral of our tale. There is no greater strength than the desire to live and no greater gift than the freedom to live. This tale may be at an end, but life, the greatest story of them all, will continue on.   
  



	6. Double or Nothing

Superman Author's Notes: I'm hesitant about writing another story in the "High Stakes" series, as the ending of "Strip Poker" suited my purposes. Yet I've always had the idea of doing an Alex side story lurking in the back of my head. Then yesterday I said, "hey, what if I do a song-fic to an appropriate tune?" Hence this little piece was born. You will need to have read the "High Stakes" series to understand this. Song is "Superman," and belongs to Five for Fighting. Feedback always welcome.  
  
  


"Double or Nothing"  
  


There was a cloak of stillness over the apartment this night. The only sound that reached his ears was the harsh breathing of a man in slumber. A man who was giving up valued privacy so that he could have a roof over his head. He. Alex Whitman. Andrew Maines. Reborn from Hell into an unknown life. An unknown face. An unknown, period.   
__  
  
I can't stand to fly  
I'm not that naive  
I'm just out to find  
The better part of me.  
  
  
Tess was at the Valenti house, at Jim's request. There was school tomorrow and it would be easier for all concerned if Tess was where people expected her to be. It had been three days since they had been rescued, and it was the first night they had spent apart in nearly two months. Without her next to him, he found himself sleeping uneasily, restlessly. He knew the others wondered exactly how close he and Tess really were. He was still in love with Isabel. He was pretty sure he'd always be in love with her. Yet Tess...he wondered if it was possible to be in love with one woman and soulmates with another. One thing was for damned sure. They'd ruined him for Earth women.   
  
  
_I'm more than a bird...I'm more than a plane  
I'm more than some pretty face beside a train  
It's not easy to be me  
_  
  
He examined his face carefully in the harsh fluorescent light, which seeped through the window from the murky darkness outside. His face seemed to float in the blackness, like a brittle leaf on a defrosting pond. His skin was pale, paler than he was used to, and those new freckles swam together, like an impressionist painting. He wasn't too sure how he felt about his face similarities to "The Waterlilies." But then it didn't matter how he felt, did it? Nothing had been under his control for months. Not his destiny, not his life, hell, not even his body. He had been more than this scared little boy he'd become. He would become more than this again. He only had to remember how...  
  
  
_Wish that I could cry  
Fall upon my knees  
Find a way to lie  
About a home I'll never see  
  
  
_There was so much missing from his mind, so much Nicholas's relentless invasions had destroyed. Perhaps in some ways, it was a blessing. He already missed his parents unbearably and he couldn't remember half of his life with them. His memories of Liz and Maria were clearer, but that was only because of the stories he told Tess in the lonely hours between torture sessions. What did it say about him that those hellish moments, the instances where he prayed that they would add just a little too much juice and end it all for him. If his parents could see him now, what would they have to say about this new son of theirs? The weakling who wished for death? The coward who couldn't sleep alone? The man who had become an unsure child again? Their son with a stranger's face. Their son who was risen from the dead.   
  
Another week and they would be gone, moving on with their lives. Isabel and the others had packed up his old room, brought some of his things to this place. He had his computer system again, his bass, and all the other trappings of his old life, brought here, to his new one. The house would stand vacant and his parents would be gone, but he would still be here, trying to repiece together the broken shards of his soul.  
  
  
_It may sound absurd...but don't be naive  
Even Heroes have the right to bleed  
I may be disturbed...but won't you concede  
Even Heroes have the right to dream  
It's not easy to be me  
  
  
_The carpet was scratchy against his bare feet as he left the bathroom, heading for the couch. He slept there, when he could sleep, that is. Aside from the time he fell asleep in the car on the way back to freedom, he hadn't been in a deep sleep for months. It wasn't the loss of sleep he objected to, as much as the loss of identity. Kivar had help him captive for so long, he'd forgotten what it was like to be alone. Maybe that was the real reason he needed Tess at night. So he wouldn't be alone. He was sure if he gave the slightest indication, Isabel would be here in moments.   
  
She would come, tears lurking in the back of her honey brown eyes, as she tried desperately to hide the guilt she felt. How she felt that she should have known, should have suspected, should have seen that Alex was in trouble. Instead she went along with the fairy tale Kivar concocted, went along with it because it was new and intriguing. Kivar as Alex was a better match for her than Alex could ever be alone. He knew it and, even if she refused to admit it, she knew too. Kivar had taken more than his freedom from him. The alien had stolen his dreams too.  
  
  
_Up, up and away...away from me  
It's all right...You can all sleep sound tonight  
I'm not crazy...or anything...  
  
  
_He laid back against the couch, closing his eyes, but not attempting to seek rest. Whenever he attempted to sink into the depths of slumber, his iron will relaxed and all his senses lit up with phantom pain. Images of a battered and violated Tess swam before his eyes. Sounds of his own grunts of pain reverberated in his ear drums. Liquid fire lapped along his skin, lingering on each sensitive nerve. Wafting through his nostrils were the scents of salty swear, long dried against clammy skin, and the acridness of roasting flesh. Metallic, tangy, copper red blood bathed his taste buds, causing bile to burn its way up his throat. No one sensation came first, but invaded all at once, leaving him trapped, overwhelmed by his own body. Again.  
  
  
_I can't stand to fly  
I'm not that naive  
Men weren't meant to ride  
With clouds between their knees  
  
  
_Sometimes he wondered what life in Roswell, New Mexico would have been like if the aliens had never come. If they'd beaten Kivar the first time around. It was funny, really. Out of their entire group, out of all the possible candidates, he'd been chosen. Not Liz, so connected so closely to Max. Not Maria, who had never been able to be physically separated from Michael for longer than two days. Not Kyle, the newest member of the club, the one who lived with the Sheriff and Tess. No, he, Alex, had been chosen because he was the one on the outside. He was the one who could say he was suddenly, unexpectedly going off to a foreign country, and receive only minimal curiosity in return. Only him. The only one with no ties. Disposable. Expendable.   
  
What would his life have been like, if they had never come? If they'd died in the fiery crash. If the other members of their race had never played God, if they had just stayed dead? What would his life have been like, if not for them? High school would have been hell, yes, but he wouldn't miss so many classes, fighting off evil space creatures. He would have graduated, gone to a good college, chosen a great career, married a wonderful girl. A human girl. It would have been normal. Sometimes he really wished his life had never left normality.  
  
  
_I'm only a man in a silly red sheet  
Digging for kryptonite on this one way street  
Only a man in a funny red sheet  
Looking for special things inside of me  
  
  
_It really did no good, he supposed, to keep pondering the "what ifs." Even the aliens couldn't travel back in time and make everything right again. No one could undo what had been done. All he could do was move forward. Maybe, in a way, Kivar and Nicholas had done him a favor by clouding up his past. Now he could only look ahead, at the future. His old dreams were gone, so he'd just make new ones. In a way, he could start all over. Become whoever he wanted. Do whatever he wanted. Go wherever he wanted. Alex Whitman was dead forever, and Andrew Maines was on the threshold of a brand new existence.   
  
Rest in peace, Whitman. Nice knowing you. It was fun while it lasted, but now Andrew's here to stay. Old model out, new model in, complete with upgrade. No more dorky, bass playing, dodge ball loving, geek. Nope, that loser, Alex Whitman, was gone forever.   
  
Andrew Maines sat on the lumpy brown couch and looked around at his new home. Andrew Maines was not a man who grew up with two girls for best friends, so he did what real men did. He locked all his emotions behind stone walls and went to sleep. And if a single tear trickled down his cheek from behind closed lids, it was not Andrew Maines who cried.  
  
  
_It's not easy to be me.  
  
  
_  
  
  
_  
  
_  
  
  
  
  
  
  
__  
  


  


  
  
  
  
  



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